


For Me, for France, for You

by Anonymous



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Of Blood and Stone, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Because after all we have been through, after all the hurt I have caused you, you love me as I love you."- OR - Louis and Philippe coming together on Easter Eve.





	For Me, for France, for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaydel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaydel/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide Kaydel! I hope you enjoy it and have a great time :-)
> 
> **General Notes and Disclaimer:**  
> 
> This story takes place during Season 2, Episode 10 and probably won't make any sense if you haven't watched that yet.  
> In the first scene, I'm also quoting some dialogue directly from said episode. Those words are not mine and I don't claim that they are. I merely use them to set the scene and to better illustrate when and why the rest of the story is taking place.
> 
> Oh, and this is written from Philippe's POV, so while he's never wrong per se, he's also quite subjective in his views and perception of things.

"What would you have written on my tombstone?" Philippe asked, searching out his brother's eyes. Then he snorted. "Gave his arse for France?"

Louis opened his mouth to speak, a pained look in his eyes, but Philippe had already straightened and begun to leave.

"Brother, please." Louis begged.

Philippe stopped in the doorway and turned back around, resigned. He didn't know what his brother would say. All he knew was that his body was aching, there was blood streaking down his face and chest and his clothes were a mess.

"If you had died tonight, I would have lost my closest friend." Louis' eyes were wide open, his face and voice doing their best to convey honesty.

His brother was good at that, making him feel needed, just when Philippe was about to give up and leave.

"Why should I believe you?" Philippe asked, resigned but with a touch of hope in his voice. God, he wanted to believe him.

"Because after all we have been through, after all the hurt I have caused you, you love me as I love you." Louis' words were slow and earnest, the closest the king could ever come to apologizing, to admitting he cared.

This was exactly what Philippe wanted to hear and his brother knew that very well. Knew that all Philippe wanted was to be loved and to have his skills and sacrifices acknowledged, not just used and taken for granted. Philippe had yelled it at him often enough. 

But as the king, Louis knew how to get what he wanted. There were orders in his every gesture and when those weren't enough, he used manipulation and blackmail. So what did he want now?

It couldn't just be simple manipulation. There was no need for that.

Philippe already owed him gratitude for rewarding the Chevalier the way he had. They both knew that the man was his weakness. One Louis exploited whenever he needed to bring Philippe to heel, and he'd just granted said weakness a stipend and given it a place at court, thereby recognizing his lover as more than just a bargaining chip to ensure Philippe's compliance.

And Louis had done all of that despite the Chevalier's past treason and his obvious dislike and annoyance at the man's very presence.

Louis came closer, his face intense, eyes firmly locked with Philippe's. "If you walk out now, you walk out on that love."

He desperately wanted believe that Louis was being honest. Philippe swallowed, took as step forward and with his eyes firmly fixed over his brother's shoulder gave him a long, tight hug.

When they let go, Louis took Philippe's hands and stated firmly, "Tomorrow you will go to war, if that is what you wish."

This was not what Philippe had expected to hear. He quickly searched his brother's face for any deceit, any hidden plan. He couldn't find any.

Philippe hadn't expected a reward from Louis for all that he'd done for him recently. Louis always took anything Philippe did for him, all the loyalty he showed, all the sacrifices he made, as his due as king. He hadn't assumed now to be any different.

Just this evening he had been forced to risk his life. Had to seduce a spy, simply to keep the commercial interests that he had fairly earned by successfully negotiating an advantageous trade deal with the Indian delegation.

He exhaled and looked at the Chevalier standing in the background, unable to believe that his brother was serious. Was he actually being rewarded? Twice? The Chevalier's elevation had already been surprise enough, one surely meant to first and foremost keep Philippe grateful and content. So why this as well? 

His brother always made sure to keep him wanting. He couldn't be giving him two rewards at once, could he? 

"No sudden, last-minute change of mind?" he asked, sounding desperate. It wasn't like it would be the first time for that to happen.

"I want you to go to Holland and destroy William of Orange," Louis' voice was forceful and absolute. "For me. For France. For you."

And Philippe would. He would go to Holland and destroy William of Orange. He would bring glory to the both of them. Louis only had to let him. 

He smiled at the thought. Battle tactics were where his strengths lay, where he could excel. He’d crush the Dutch and show them the might of France. He would not let Louis regret this.

But for now, there were arrangements that needed to be made, plans to be devised and orders to be given. First however, he had to make himself look presentable again. He quickly glanced at the Chevalier to indicated that it was time for them to take their leave. 

On his way out, Philippe’s gaze lingered on his brother for a few, long seconds, trying to communicate everything he felt. Then he turned and left, Louis' satisfied stare following him out into the next room, the Chevalier trailing after him.

***

It was late by the time Philippe was done for the night. There had been much to do and even more to consider.

Now however, as he stepped through the small side door into the king’s bedchamber, his mind was as calm as it could get, given the circumstances. He knew what needed to be said.

Louis was sitting by the fire, already dressed for bed, a glass of wine held in his hand. He didn’t react to the noise of his entrance.

“This is highly irregular, Your Highness.” Bontemps scolded. Nobody entered the king's private rooms without being invited first.

At that, Louis did turn around.

“I am not walking out. Not now, not ever.” Philippe’s tone was sure.

Louis closed his eyes and leaned back into the chair. “Leave us.”

At their king's command, the guards and servants hastened out the door. Bontemps, as always, was the last one to leave. On his way out, he took care to open the gilded balustrade that separated the state bed as well as the hidden side door from the rest of the chamber so that Philippe could pass through.

Philippe walked over to stand at his brother's side and gripped his shoulder tightly, repeating his words. “I am never walking out.”

Louis kept staring into the flames.

“I have fought my fears and emerged victorious. Yet this was just the first of many battles.”

He took a sip of his wine, then lowered the glass again, staring at it in thought. The wine was the color of blood.

He sighed.

“I need you to have my back.”

“There are still threats that have to be dealt with.” Philippe agreed. The Affair of the Poisons was far from over. The king wasn’t safe.

“I will purge the court of all it’s toxins. Fight the war within Versailles, as its king it is my duty. Your skills are best used on the battlefield.”

It was true. Philippe hadn’t enjoyed being a spy. He much preferred strategizing and cutting his foes down in the open. There was no glory in sneaking around, in behind the scenes manipulations, no accolades to be gained from whispering untruths in his enemies' ears.

Louis could fight his battle at Versailles, he would remove all the threats he faced here. Meanwhile Philippe would ride to Holland and make it so that his brother would never have to spare another thought for William of Orange ever again.

Philippe eased his hold on the shoulder and moved to face his brother, slowly trailing his fingers down his arm.

"I do know how to make men surrender."

At Louis' sharp glance Philippe amended, "for the glory of France."

“There can be two winners,” Louis repeated the words he had said what felt like so long ago, when he’d first promised to let Philippe go to war again. This time however, there was a conviction and earnestness in his tone that had been missing the last time. “And it will be us. Together.”

In a fluid, well practiced move Philippe lowered himself to the floor, moving aside the king's robe and pushing up his nightgown, all the while keeping his eyes firmly locked with his brother.

His first touch was soft but sure, expertly coaxing Louis to hardness. Louis' face was conspicuously void of any emotion, though the tightness of his jaw and the whiteness of his knuckles betrayed his apparent calm.

When he finally took him in, there was a half suppressed moan from above him and Philippe couldn't help a victorious smile as he swallowed his brother down completely.

There was a small crash. Louis must have dropped his half-filled glass. The red of the wine was probably already seeping into the floor. Philippe continued his attentions with renewed vigor.

It didn't take long for Louis to concede. With a whine that was half desperate, half annoyed, he pushed Philippe off of him, his cock still hard and glistening, before grabbing him and urging him towards the bed on the other side of the gilded balustrade.

“I thought no one was allowed in the king’s bed but the king.” Philippe mocked, trying his best to hide his own, desperate need.

“We did share a womb.” Came the panting reply.

Philippe thought it wise not to mention that this had happened with a two year separation, and that their brotherly sharing of beds had ended once Louis had become king, not when said brother was currently busy trying to pull down his pants and was hastily fumbling between his legs.

Philippe let himself fall back onto the bed, enjoying the the wildness in Louis' eyes as his brother crawled over him and pressed him into the sheets, hips urgently seeking friction.

There wasn't any finesse in Louis' rutting between his legs, his needs to come and to assert his dominance playing off of each other, leaving no thought for anything else.

His brother always wanted to think that he was in control of everything. He would never admit that right now, it was actually Philippe who was victorious. Philippe smiled and let his brother take his pleasure.

With a groan, Louis spilled between Philippe's legs, going weak as his weight fell upon the younger.

When moments had passed with Louis doing nothing but lie motionless and panting on top of him, Philippe sighed and insistently pressed his own erection into his brother's hips. Perhaps this was why his brother had so many mistresses.

"What was it you said, about together?" he needled.

Louis groaned again and gave him a long, languid kiss, a hand moving down to stroke Philippe. "I am the king, you are my brother. My glory is yours."

That was all well and good, but right now Philippe would rather just come. The heat of the moment however had passed and the hand between his legs proved to be unpracticed when it came to other men.

Really, what had he expected? Louis probably didn't even touch himself, preferring instead to leave his seed in the next available cunt. At least in that he had no trouble following the church's demands.

Philippe silently moved his own hands down to help, one firmly guiding his brother's up and down his erection, the other gently massaging his balls. Like this, release and satisfaction would follow soon.

It took both of them a while to catch their breaths, once Philippe had come. Louis had rolled off of him and was now thoughtfully mustering him. "The Chevalier may stand with you and your wife at mass tomorrow."

Philippe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The two of us will be glorious."

Louis smiled. "We already are."

***

Philippe stretched slowly and blinked. The sun would rise soon; it was time to leave. His body was still aching from fighting Thomas earlier in the evening, but he was feeling much better about everything now. All in all it had been a good Holy Saturday.

He would have to tell his wife that Versailles could indeed be fun, once you got used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me I'm not the only one who loved the fact that Liselotte and the Chevalier had color coordinated outfits at Easter mass? I mean that must have been intentional :P


End file.
